Page 97 of Silver-Tongued Devil
Besides, she wanted it to be done. For his parents, and for… something else. Once she wasn’t working for Blake anymore, she’d find out what they had, or what they didn’t. Once he had to make an effort to see her.
Her stomach dropped at the thought, but that was why she needed to know. That wasexactlywhy.
In two days, the resort was opening. And then what?
He’s on vacation,Evan had said. It wasn’t exactly true, but it was partly true. Blake had two other houses—at least two she knew about. And his home was in Portland. This was a vacation house, and he wasn’t going to stick around much longer. He’d complained about his furniture, but he hadn’t changed it. People who actuallylivedin a home, who hated their furniture and could afford to replace it—they did it. People who were visiting didn’t bother.
At least she assumed that was how it would work.
It took a while for the voice from upstairs to make it into her consciousness. There it was again, though.
“Anybody home?”
Blake.He was supposed to be picking up his parents. Did he… maybe he wanted her to go with him. Maybe…
She put her brush hastily away and pulled off her cap. On her way to the stairs, she unsnapped the bib of her overalls. Whatever he said, she knew her overalls weren’t in any way cute. Her orange tank top, though, was. At least he seemed to think so.
She ran up the stairs, calling out, “Right here,” then got to the living room and rocked to a stop.
There was a man in the kitchen, and it wasn’t Blake. It was somebody bigger. Probably six-five, andhuge.Blonde hair and a flattened nose, wearing board shorts and a T-shirt, enormous hands hanging by his sides.
He turned and looked at her out of narrow blue eyes, and she had an icy moment of pure fear before she whirled and headed for the door.
“Wait,” he said in a voice so deep, it was as if it was coming out of the bottom of a barrel. “You’re the painter. Sorry if I scared you. Blake said to come on in.”
“Oh. Yes. I am.” One of Blake’s teammates? Blake had told him to come onin?Like Dakota would be fine with having some huge, strange guy walk in while she was alone?
She stayed where she was and willed her heart to settle down. She wanted to fasten her overall straps, because whoever this was, he was looking her over too closely, and her tank top was too low. She didn’t, because it would have looked defensive. “Can I help you?”
Now, he was smiling. It wasn’t a hugely better look for him. “Blake said you do art. Sexy art.”
“Excuse me?” He’d come over from the kitchen now and was standing too close, like nobody had ever explained the concept of “personal space.” She took a step back.
“Sorry,” he said. “Guess I’m supposed to say erotic. Erotic stained glass. That’s what he said.”
“What?”
“I saw that eagle, and I was thinking something like that. But then Blake said you’d done sex— I mean, erotic stuff, and I thought that’d be even better. He said I could ask for what I want.”
Something cold was happening in the pit of her stomach. “What exactly did he tell you?”
“I told you. That I could tell you my idea and you’d do it, so here it is. It’s like, the Kama Sutra.”
“Uh… I think you might have…”What?
“Not all of it,” the guy hurried on to say. “Just five or six positions. Sort of, you know, subtle. I mean, if it was stained glass, she might not even notice what it was at first. Then she’d look closer, and —boom. Hit her right between the eyes, get the mood going right there. And I’m asking her what her favorite one is, see, making it like a menu. I’m thinking oral both ways, then you got doggy style, and one with her legs up over my shoulders. Reverse cowgirl, maybe. That’d be good. And something where you can tell it’s anal, get that conversation started in a classy way. That’s six, right? Basic stuff. Does she like to ride, or does she like to be on her knees? That’s, what do you call it. Empowerment.”
She couldn’t believe it. She could not. “Let me guess. You’ve got a stripper pole in your bedroom.”
His eyes got a faraway look. “Damn. I never thought of that. That’d be good, too. I never had my own place before. Blake said three thousand apiece for the pictures. So that’s, what, if there’s six? Eighteen thousand?”
Time to shut this down. “You’ve been given wrong information. I don’t do that.”
“Blake said you did. Said I should ask you. It’d be classy. Just the position, not like I’m asking you to do her tied up, or some kind of spread beaver shot or anything. So which ones would turn you on best if it was you? I mean, getting oral, obviously. But what else?”
“Nothing,” she said. “I think you need to go. You have the wrong idea of what I do.”
He scratched his head. “Well, shoot. Blake said…” His expression cleared. “Wait. He’s pranking me, right? He knew I’d think you were hot, and he’s trying to make me look dumb so it’ll be harder for us to hook up.” He laughed. “Damn. He’s a sneaky bastard. OK, forget all that. So when do you get off here? I’ll buy you a drink out there at the resort, we can talk about you doing one of those eagles for me, and maybe you’ll feel like helping me make my list. Now that Blake put it in my head, I want that art bad.”
